


Swinging Doors and Wet Floors

by Heronfem



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal (kinda), Meet-Cute, Volleyball Dorks in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 07:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14015484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: At least once a week Matsukawa Issei cursed out whatever asshole had put swinging doors at the back of the Starbucks he was stuck selling his soul at. They were at exactly the wrong height for him, people constantly thought they were the place to go through for the bathrooms, and no one had put “Employees Only” signs on or around them.Or, Matsukawa meets his soulmate.





	Swinging Doors and Wet Floors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sugaredwings (CaffeinatedQueer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedQueer/gifts).



> As prompted by actually-a-barista Sugaredwings, who puts up with so much shit.

At least once a week Matsukawa Issei cursed out whatever asshole had put swinging doors at the back of the Starbucks he was stuck selling his soul at. They were at exactly the wrong height for him, people constantly thought they were the place to go through for the bathrooms, and no one had put “Employees Only” signs on or around them. Depending on the week, the cursing out might happen daily, even. During rush times there were _always_ people idling there on their phones, in his way and likely to get run over by a pissed off Yahaba if they aren't more cautious, or outright strangled by Oikawa. 

Issei was 95% sure that Oikawa used a combination of demon summoning and blood magic to go to school, be a manager, and be on his university's volleyball team all at once. The man was insane. 

It was, all things considered, a fairly normal morning when he walked into the coffee shop. The sun was shining, the grass was green, Watari was humming like the morning-loving psychopath he was, and Oikawa's soul marks were on full display in their vivid teal along his right arm where his shirt sleeves were pushed up. Issei knew they read, _it was always you_ , while Iwaizumi's read, _who else could it have been?_ His own lines were still black, the color yet to fill in. His were... embarrassing, but heartening, and scrawled along his collarbone. Everyone's came in some time when they were in their teens- his had come late, not until he was 17, while Oikawa and Iwaizumi had gotten theirs at the same time when they were 15. Some people never got them, like Watari, or got several like Tendou Satori had. 

He couldn't exactly begrudge Tendou for having _three_ soul marks, not when he'd cried from how excited and happy he was. 

Issei went to the counter, grunted a hello at Watari and received a delighted greeting in return, and braced himself. Oikawa, on the phone with someone and looking like he was prepared to physically fight them, gave him a finger wave and pointed him where he needed. Kindaichi, tall and skinny and eternally nervous, gave him a quick hello before rushing to do some job or other. 

Morning rush was exactly as much fun as ever. With a convention in town for plumbing corporations, the city was crawling with businessmen, early rising students, and bulky men with no-nonsense faces jittery and lethargic alike in dire need of coffee. Issei lost himself in the rhythm of it, putting out metaphorical fires as they arose (Kindaichi spilling something, Watari's wife calling with an emergency, Oikawa himself turning into a blushing mess when Iwaizumi appeared in order to flirt with him over the goddamn register- Issei was going to kill them both-, and so forth), and by the time things died down with the businessmen it was time for the wave of college students to hit in full force. Issei would have preferred the return of the plumbers- most of them just wanted it black, little effort required. 

But the students descended in their hordes, alternating between dressed well enough to join an idol group and in pajamas, all of them dead eyed and staring into the abyss. 

Issei could sympathize. All of his classes were afternoon classes, but by the time his shift was done he was always ready to launch himself into the void to avoid one more godawful lecture on glottal stops, and he _liked_ linguistics.

The worst of the college student rush finally eased just as Kindaichi dropped his own cup on the floor heading towards the break room at the swinging doors. Oikawa sighed, rubbing his forehead as Kindaichi frantically stammered apologies to Watari, who was attempting to soothe him.

“Mattsun,” he said, in beatific tones. “Darling friend of mine, delight and joy in my life-”

“I'll get the mop,” Issei said, rolling his eyes at Oikawa's theatrics. He sidestepped the puddle, disappearing into the back to grab it, only to realize that someone had separated it from its bucket and locked it into the closet with the cleaning chemicals. 

“Fucks sake,” he muttered, staring up at the ceiling, and went to fetch the keys from Oikawa. He pushed open the swinging doors right as he saw someone standing there, pink-hair in a choppy cut sticking out over rather charmingly large ears, stepped directly in the puddle, and proceeded to slip as his shoes failed to live up to their non-slip name. 

Later, he'd swear it was divine intervention, because he was grabbed by the arm as he fell, a leg went out, and he found himself being dipped in an elegant fashion.

Issei stared up at his savior, flushed with surprise and delight, and the guy grinned at him with a wicked, easy smile. He was damn cute, really, dressed in a navy coat and gray slacks and with hair somewhere between brown and pink. His scarf had tiny cats eating ice cream on it. 

“I always hoped a guy as hot as you would fall for me,” he said cheerfully, and Issei nearly swooned as heat flared along his collarbone. 

“That's a great line,” he said with a grin, heart pounding in his chest in excitement, “We should do this again sometime.”

Pink-hair's eyes widened, and he promptly dropped him into the puddle.

Issei burst out laughing in delight as pink-hair sputtered at him, yanking up his shirt to watch as the words on his hip turned from black to cheerful pink. 

“You!” Pink-hair beamed at him, still sprawled on the floor. “It's you! Hi!”

“Hey yourself,” Issei laughed, reaching up for a hand. Pink-hair easily pulled him up one handed, and spun him like a top into his arms. “Oooh, smooth. Trying to seduce me at work? Scandalous!”

Had he been looking, Issei would have seen that Oikawa had his phone out and was filming them.

“Can it really be called trying if I'm succeeding?” His soulmate asked, looking absolutely delighted. “I mean, I can take you for another spin you again if the first time wasn't enough. Work with me here, man, I'm being as smooth as I can.”

Issei laughed as his new best friend wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully, delighted, and pulled down the collar of his shirt to show him the scrawled, now-pink writing along his collarbone. “Look what you've done to me, you handsome devil. I'm marked forever in bubble-gum pink. I think this makes me ready for my magical girl debut.”

“I think it looks dashing,” Pink-hair grinned. “Hanamaki Takahiro, and I am _so_ glad to finally meet you.”

“Matsukawa Issei, and right back at you. I like long walks on the beach, being serenaded with 80's synth pop from a boom box, and think teal is overrated as a color.”

Oikawa gasped in offense behind him.

“Cool, so my boom box plan is still a go,” Hanamaki said, beaming at him. They were very, very close, and Issei didn't know the last time he smiled so much. “You'll have to wait until I get a trench coat and like, a car, but I will definitely annoy the fuck out of your neighbors to woo you with The Cure on cassette tape.”

“I'll settle for a bike and a jacket,” Issei said, “gotta be eco-concious and all. You have the Cure on cassette?”

“Nope. But I can get it, if I can get your number too?”

“Babe. Marry me.”

That was the absolute end of Hanamaki Takahiro ever being smooth again, because he turned bright red and made the most adorable squeaking noise Issei had ever heard.

Issei got his number, then got his ring size.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate that "Volleyball Dorks in Love" is its own tag. 
> 
> They have a June wedding. Kindaichi cries the entire way through, Kunimi just hands him tissue after tissue, and Oikawa bawls like a baby he's so happy for them. Iwaizumi sheds a Single Manly Tear in public but loses it afterwards.
> 
> Comments feed my soul! This is the first time I've written the Meme Team so I hope it turned out true to their characters.


End file.
